My mom led a dual life, half semi-traditional and the other half very avant-garde. Her story is worthy of a book, one I might just be spurred to write next. Maybe it will be called “June Babe,” the name her close friends called her when she was younger. It suited her, in her Levi jeans, smoking cigarettes she said she never inhaled—ha! She drove us to school everyday in her sporty AMC Javelin with the Pierre Cardin interior and I have got to tell you, it was a real trick getting out of the back seat of that car even when I was 10-years-old! Cool is one thing but there’s something to be said for comfort. Lucky for us back-seat passengers, she decided 4-wheel drive was more her speed. Her Jeep Liberty is still parked next to her house. Later in life, Mom was nicknamed “June Bug” by her caregivers because of her sweet disposition, polite and poised, and of course still wearing her jeans. She was always thankful for any and all kindness.

June Bug turned 88 on December 12th and passed on to the next life exactly 2 weeks later, on December 26th. Alzheimers took her away mentally some years ago and COPD contributed to her loss of memory. But she was “Mom” for 56 years and an inspiration to me most of my life. She pushed me to reach for my full potential as a woman and human being. I have mentioned in a previous post that Mom was completely responsible for me becoming a writer and authoring my novel, First Rodeo. She is and always will be a great woman, never forgotten. I’ll always remember her as the woman who taught me to face my fears, to love with my whole heart—even knowing it may get broken only to mend over time—and to always blaze my own trail.